Glad to have your approval. [She says it with a teasing tone, but almost immediately she has a flashback to another time; with her on her knees and his thumb running along her lips. Glad to have your approval, she'd murmured then, before sucking first on his fingers when he asked, then his cock when he ordered, huskily, a few moments later.
She barely suppresses a little shiver with the memory, and stands on her toes to get the damn plates from where he told her. She's going to have to focus better than this; is she seriously this starved for his touch that just the memory of sucking him off makes her wet?
Pathetic, that's the word to describe her self control. Pathetic.]
[ At least she doesn't have to watch him awkwardly trying to tip grilled cheese on to plates. He's thankful for that. Because by the time she's back he's managed to clear up any spillages and leave the pan in the sink. ]
[Maybe that was the plan, see. She leaves the suitcases in the hall and steps inside to get her hands on that beer.]
That smells like I can't wait to get my mouth on it. Seriously, I have dreamed of your sandwiches ever since the day in the honeycomb room. [They're number two on the list of things she thinks about: his mouth, his sandwiches.]
[ He follows, his beer tucked into the crook of his elbow and held in place by the curve of his plate. When he makes it he bends to set them both down, smiling a little when nothing falls off or spills. ]
So? Verdict? Do I pass muster?
[ He's teasing mostly. Phil takes the space beside her, his knee pressed against hers and his food left in his lap. ]
So good! [She doesn't need much for her to get comfortable with him, on his couch, in his house. Maybe because she feels so welcomed here, by him.
Worth the tongue burn. She takes care of that with beer, her plate balanced on her knee.] Herbs or not, it's still a pretty kickass sandwich. You're a pretty kickass cook...[A thought crosses her mind.] Maybe you could teach me -- I can cook, but mostly van food.
I thought we said no teaching so you can't dump me.
[ He offers her a sly grin, moving to pick up his own sandwich. ] But maybe. If I keep out the secret ingredients. Make you leave the room while I add them. Then we could have a deal.
I know we said, but if I'm perseverent. [Case in point being that he agreed to part of a lesson already. With enough time, she'd work miracles on him and stick her nose into his secret recipe.
She smiles, her mind following that thought for a moment.] It's funny, because when we said no more secrets, you should've added except in the kitchen.
[Laughing. She's going to take notes and remake the sandwiches over and over again until they're like his, and then shock him by not leaving. Never leaving.
(Dumb people like Skye, once they love you it's for life.)]
I should make you make a whole list of those rules.
What, so we get to sleep in? [She actually gasps here. What did that even feel like? Sleeping in? Waking up next to -- well, actually that makes her draw up short.
Cautiously, she tries,] Since we're talking about rules. [Her gaze moves down to her beer, from which she pauses to take a sip, and then back up at him.]
We should talk about what you're comfortable with. With what I'm comfortable with too.
I haven't shaken anything since before Afterlife. I think it'd be safe for us to sleep in the same bed if...you'd be okay with that? [She's being safe.] I would definitely like to try that.
Absolutely not, I plan to take advantage of every single morning of being able to wake up next to you. [Did that come out too intense? She flushes a little, but doesn't look away.]
We've talked through kissing, so that's settled. [She moves on,] What about cuddling?
[Well, they are in his safehouse, but he doesn't need to bring it up and she's grateful for it. She never feels undermined or condescended to when she talks about her feelings with him, she feels understood instead.
So, the sandwich and the beer get put on hold for a moment here.]
[ He glances her way, a little furrow between his brows. ]
Skye, that parts not going to change. I want you. I will always want you. But I just need, a little of time to get my head in order. I'm not going to be able to touch you the same way. I'm not going to look the same. [ These things shouldn't worry them but he's being forward thinking. ] I have to figure that out. We both do. But we have the time.
I know - but it's why I'm asking. Because it's been a...[She lets out a bitter little huff,] really long time, and I keep wanting to constantly hug you.
Just, for the record - I think you look amazing. What with being not dead, and all.
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Good choice by the way.
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She barely suppresses a little shiver with the memory, and stands on her toes to get the damn plates from where he told her. She's going to have to focus better than this; is she seriously this starved for his touch that just the memory of sucking him off makes her wet?
Pathetic, that's the word to describe her self control. Pathetic.]
What're we drinking? Wine, beer?
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[ It's probably a good thing he can't read thoughts because he is handling some very hot oil right now. So instead he flips the sandwiches again. ]
Should be some still in the fridge.
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She gets them both beers from the fridge, and while he finishes up making the sandwiches she finishes up storing what's left of the groceries.]
I'm going to get our suitcases and lock Lola up before we get cozier, okay? [Not asking for permission, she already heads out to do just that.]
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You can leave the suitcases in the hall!
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That smells like I can't wait to get my mouth on it. Seriously, I have dreamed of your sandwiches ever since the day in the honeycomb room. [They're number two on the list of things she thinks about: his mouth, his sandwiches.]
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I just hope they're good.
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Temptation wins on the way, and she tales a bite from her sandwich. Hot as it is, the flavour makes up for the tongue burn.]
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So? Verdict? Do I pass muster?
[ He's teasing mostly. Phil takes the space beside her, his knee pressed against hers and his food left in his lap. ]
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Worth the tongue burn. She takes care of that with beer, her plate balanced on her knee.] Herbs or not, it's still a pretty kickass sandwich. You're a pretty kickass cook...[A thought crosses her mind.] Maybe you could teach me -- I can cook, but mostly van food.
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[ He offers her a sly grin, moving to pick up his own sandwich. ] But maybe. If I keep out the secret ingredients. Make you leave the room while I add them. Then we could have a deal.
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She smiles, her mind following that thought for a moment.] It's funny, because when we said no more secrets, you should've added except in the kitchen.
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All of my rules have a kitchen exception.
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(Dumb people like Skye, once they love you it's for life.)]
I should make you make a whole list of those rules.
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[ His sandwich is too hot and so he has to reach for his beer and take a deep refreshing sip. ]
There aren't really any rules. Apart from not setting an alarm.
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Cautiously, she tries,] Since we're talking about rules. [Her gaze moves down to her beer, from which she pauses to take a sip, and then back up at him.]
We should talk about what you're comfortable with. With what I'm comfortable with too.
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All right. What are you comfortable with?
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[ His smile dimples slightly. ] There is a spare room though, if you want me to take it at any point.
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We've talked through kissing, so that's settled. [She moves on,] What about cuddling?
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Of course. I want to be near you. That hasn't changed.
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So, the sandwich and the beer get put on hold for a moment here.]
And touch me? And - be touched?
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Skye, that parts not going to change. I want you. I will always want you. But I just need, a little of time to get my head in order. I'm not going to be able to touch you the same way. I'm not going to look the same. [ These things shouldn't worry them but he's being forward thinking. ] I have to figure that out. We both do. But we have the time.
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Just, for the record - I think you look amazing. What with being not dead, and all.
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Come here. [ He can hug her. He's sorry for making her feel that way. ]
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